


Picnic

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Series: ACD Fics [28]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Picnics, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24746086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: A quiet afternoon in Sussex
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: ACD Fics [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1368016
Comments: 18
Kudos: 112





	Picnic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beltainefaerie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beltainefaerie/gifts).



It was early summer in Sussex. I hummed as I put the last few things into a basket, eager to enjoy both the warm weather and the company. Holmes came to my side, still moving nearly silently when he wished to, though I usually knew when he was there. He kissed my cheek and picked up the basket. 

I smiled and reached for my cane, letting him get the back door as we went out of our little cottage and into the garden. The bees hummed contentedly among the flowers as we went down the path, past the hives, and reached the small gazebo we'd had built shortly after our arrival.

Usually, on nice days such as this, I would sit out here and write, perhaps watching Holmes working in the garden. Our life here was slower, quieter, but it was ours and ours alone. No one bothered the two old bachelors out at the far end of the village.

Today, however, we'd decided on a shared lunch out here. I sat carefully on the bench seat, letting Holmes take out the food I had packed. He poured me a glass of wine and settled in next to me.

In our younger days, we might have taken our picnic into the shadow of the woods that bordered our property. But I wasn't quite so mobile as I'd once been, time catching up to me, as it does to all men.

But no matter the years, it couldn't change the connection between Holmes and I. I had never loved anyone so strongly and for so long as I did my Holmes. And I knew that my feelings were returned with just as much devotion.

Holmes smiled at me. "Lost in thought again?" he asked, his eyes dimmed with age, but no less sharp and intelligent.

"Thinking of you," I said honestly, bringing his hand to my lips to kiss it.

He smiled at me, in that way still made my heart leap in my chest. I leaned in to kiss his lips, then turned my attention to the meal.

He chuckled, breaking the bread. We ate quietly, as comfortable as we'd been at forty. Our need for small talk had diminished over the years, so we ate in companionable silence. Perhaps like monks in an abbey, though our holy ground was the overflowing garden and the tidy cottage.

We worked our way through a meal of local meat and cheese, bread I had baked and honey Holmes had collected. The wine had been a gift from a long-ago client and the taste of it reminded me of other times and places. The past stretched back behind us; our final sunset was on its way, though hopefully not too soon. But we were content and we would face that final test as we'd done nearly everything else. Together.

I shook my head to clear it from the morose thoughts. Holmes leaned in and kissed me gently. "May I distract you?" he asked.

"You always have,” I said, reaching up to cup his cheek and kiss him in return.

He smiled warmly and slipped to his knees with an ease of which I was nearly jealous. Then his hands were on my belt and my focus was only on his hands, perhaps not as clever as they'd once been, but still opening my trousers with long-practiced ease.

I moaned softly as he freed my prick, the warm air brushing against my exposed skin. He ducked his head and savored the taste of me on his tongue before wrapping his mouth around me.

I rested one hand on his shoulder, not pushing, simply marveling at the delight he always brought me. My eyes slipped closed as I gave myself over to pleasure. I was being worshiped in a way only one man could ever offer me.

He took his time, knowing I required more effort these days. I tilted my head back, feeling the breeze in my hair and the sun on my face. Surely these moments were little glimpses of the heaven that awaited us.

Holmes's hands lay on my thighs as he took me deeper, putting his mouth to our favorite use. I felt my climax slowly draw up, like an earthen dam that burst open suddenly to release the flood.

I groaned as I came, feeling him swallow my release. When he finished he slowly raised his head, dabbed at his mouth with his handkerchief, then tucked me away before rising and sitting next to me one more.

I kissed him, my own hand straying to his thigh. He shook his head and covered my hand with his own. "I am fine," he said.

He enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh from time to time, but he'd never been as eager for it as I. So I withdrew my hand and instead gathered him against my chest, simply holding him in my arms.

"I love you," he said quietly, so quietly that only the bees and I could hear.

I leaned in to kiss his ear. "I love you, too," I said.

He sighed, content. We dozed off together, comfortable and safe in the summer sun.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on twitter and Tumblr at merindab


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